INSTINCT.
221. Who can account for the mode in which a dog or cat, carried a long journey from home, in a covered basket, instinctively, finds its way back?—yet, numerous are the well authenticated instances of such occurrences.[34] But, enough of this,—fortunately I have not undertaken to attempt an elucidation of any of Nature’s many mysteries, but simply to show how some of the faculties she has bestowed upon the canine race may easily be made conducive to our amusements.
CHAPTER VIII.
FIRST LESSON IN SEPTEMBER CONTINUED. CUNNING OF AGE.—RANGE OF FROM TWO TO SIX DOGS.
[222]. Your dog not to “break fence;” how taught; birds often sprung while you are scrambling over hedge.—[223]. Turning one’s back upon a dog to bring him away; stooping down, &c. to make him hunt close.—[224]. Dog, when fatigued, not to be hunted; leads to false points.—[225]. Sent home, brushed, and allowed a warm berth; not to follow all day at “heel.”—[226]. Instance of longevity and vigour; flapper shooting.—[227]. Value of good old dogs.—[228]. Exemplified in an old dropper on the moors.—[229]. Young dogs get thrown out; cunning of old birds exemplified in a Grouse.—[230]. Annual “fall” of underwood in Kent.—[231]. Mr. K——g, good fisherman; in Note, anecdote of voracity of pike. Wheatley’s “Rod and Line.”—[232]. Extraordinary chase after a wounded pheasant.—[233]. Singular appearance of the pheasant on its capture.—[234]. Description of the Spaniel “Dash.”—[235]. Evil of “fetching,” not having been taught in youth exemplified.—[236]. Another instance of the cunning of an old Pheasant. In Note, how to choose and tell age of Pheasants.—[237]. The last Duke of Gordon; his black setters; his shooting over old dogs.—[238] to [240].—Beat of two dogs; how regulated.—[241]. Whatever number be hunted, all should look to the gun for orders; Mr. Herbert’s opinion in his “Field Sports in United States.”—[242], [243]. Beat of three dogs.—[244]. Of four dogs.—[245] to [247]. Of five or six dogs.—[248]. Great precision impracticable, but the necessity of a system maintained; System particularly essential where game is scarce; dogs to be brigaded not employed as a pack.—[249]. When each keeper hunts a brace.—[250]. Major B——d’s highly broken pointers.—[251], [252]. His making six alternately “road;” their running riot when ordered.—[253]. Not a good shot, which shows excellence in shooting not to be essential in a breaker.—[254]. A brigade of fine rangers worth from fifty to sixty guineas a brace.—[255]. Bad rangers afford some sport where game is plentiful; Captain R——s’ dogs on Quail.—[256]. Fastest walkers do not necessarily beat most country.—[257]. Nor do always the fastest dogs.—[258]. How slow dogs may hunt more ground than faster.
“BREAKING FENCE.”
222. Of course, you will not let your pupil “break fence,” or get out of your sight. If he be a small, active pointer or setter he may be out of sight before you are aware of it. Be on the watch to whistle or call out “Fence,” the instant you perceive that he is thinking of quitting the field. Do not wait until he is over; check him by anticipating his intentions. Should he, unperceived, or in defiance of your orders, get into a field before you, call him back (by the same opening, if practicable, through which he passed, the more clearly to show him his folly); and do not proceed further until he has obeyed you. A steady adherence to this rule will soon convince him of the inutility of not exercising more patience, or at least forbearance; then signal to him “away” in the direction you choose, not in the direction he chooses. It is essential that you should be the first over every fence. In the scramble, birds, at which you ought to have a shot, are frequently sprung. If he is not obedient to your orders make him “drop,” and rate him as described in [188].
223. A dog from his own observation so much feels,—and in a greater or less degree, according to his education,—the necessity of watching in what direction you are walking, that if he is habituated to work under your eye,—I mean, is never allowed to hunt behind you,—by turning your back upon him when he is paying no attention to your signals, you will often be able to bring him away from a spot where he is ranging (perhaps down wind) against your wishes, at a time when you are afraid to whistle, lest you should alarm the birds. Waving your hand backwards and forwards near the ground, and stooping low while walking slowly about, as if in search of something, will often attract the attention of an ill-taught self-willed dog; and his anxiety to participate in the find, and share the sport which he imagines you expect, will frequently induce him to run up, and hunt alongside of you for any close lying bird.